Just Our Luck
by chronicxxinsanity
Summary: Rosie Reyes is pulled out of the water and manages to survive the plane crash, but that seems to be where her streak of luck runs out. Stuck on the island with her brother, Rosie finds that she has a lot of growing up to do if they are going to survive, let alone find their way back home.
1. Chapter 1

**Just Our Luck**

Chapter One

A sharp pain deep in her chest woke Rosie up with a start. It was like daggers clawing their way up her throat to her mouth, and she gagged and coughed. Hands were on her shoulders, pushing her one way and then the hands were moving around her face. Long wet hair was pulled away from her mouth as she gasped for air between each cough.

When she had finally cleared her mouth of the salty water, Rosie rested her head back on the warm ground and took several deep breaths.

"Are you okay? Hey! You alright?"

Noise seemed to appear out of nowhere. The hand was still on her shoulder and she realized the person had been shaking her violently. Screams seemed to drift closer and farther away, some sounded like names being cried out and others just sounded terrified.

It felt like it took all of her energy to lift her head from the warm ground and look up at the man kneeling over her, still shaking her shoulder and moving the wet hair from her face.

"Are you okay?" His voice finally seemed to stay in one place as Rosie blinked. Blinding bright light made it hard to see until the man shifted and blocked the sunlight. "Can you hear me?"

Rosie opened her mouth but no words came out. She coughed again, spitting salty water from her mouth. She nodded when the coughing subsided and his hand squeezed her shoulder tightly.

"Good, thought you were a goner for a second," he said, leaning back and blinding her again.

"Where am I?" she asked, her throat unbelievably sore and scratchy.

When the man didn't respond Rosie carefully opened her eyes, peeking through her eyelashes until they adjusted to the bright light. The man was gone and Rosie craned her neck to look around her.

Icy cold water lapped at her bare toes; a sharp contrast to the warm sand pressed against her side. Moving slowly, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, her soaking wet clothes clinging to her skin and making moving around difficult. The water at her feet was rhythmic, pulling away and leaving her skin covered in goosebumps before splashing back and the foam grabbing at her ankles again.

Sand splashed against her face as someone ran by, bringing Rosie's attention away from the water at her toes to the people around her.

She was laying at the waters edge, clearly on a sandy beach but where?

Another body was laying on the sand next to her, and she reached over and grabbed their shoulder.

"Hey," Rosie said, shaking their shoulder as the man had done to her when they didn't respond. The man was large, with short hair and wearing a suit laying with his back to her. She shook his shoulder harder and got up onto her knees carefully – her back aching at the movement. "Are you okay?"

The man rolled limply over onto his back, his head hitting the sand beside Rosie's knees with a thud. She jumped back at the sight of his face; blue lips and eyes wide open but he could not see Rosie. A large gash opened the skin on his cheek and before Rosie could look away she saw his teeth broken and bloody through the hole.

"What the fuck?!" she shrieked, falling back onto her butt and pushing herself away from the dead body.

"Have you seen my son!?" a man screamed, sliding to a stop in the sand a few feet from where Rosie was sitting. "Hey, girl! Have you seen my boy?"

Rosie slowly shook her head, not able to look away from those bright blue eyes staring back at Rosie in such shock. Sand splashed against her arm as the man turned and ran, screaming to other people asking if they had seen his son.

A loud groan, something inhuman, started from somewhere behind Rosie. She tore her eyes away from the dead man in front of her and craned her neck to look as the noise grew louder.

"Holy..." Rosie's jaw dropped at the sight behind her. She slowly made her way to her knees and then carefully to her unsteady legs. She nearly collapsed back onto the sand when her foot sank into the dry sand but she kept her balance.

Half of a plane, battered and wrecked lay in the sand down the beach, bits of metal and scraps of bags and clothes and bodies littered the ground all around it. Thick black clouds of smoke rose up from the wreckage and littered the air with the smell of burning ash.

The groan grew louder and louder until a sharp bang silenced the screams around her. Something in the plane had caught fire, the blast sending sand raining down around Rosie. Lifting her arms, Rosie tried to check herself to see if – besides waking up with water in her lungs and a sore back – she was hurt. A long gash stung on her upper arm when she brushed the sand off and a lump was clearly swelling on her lower back, but she seemed to be in better shape than the man laying dead in the sand behind her.

Giving him a last long look, Rosie took a deep breath and scanned the other bodies around her.

She had no idea where they were, no recollection of a plane crash, or what had happened between taking off in Australia and waking up in the sand. Rosie did remember one thing though, she had been sitting on that plane with her brother next to her – and he wasn't laying in the sand around her.

Looking to the water Rosie felt her chest tighten. He had been sitting beside her on the plane, what if he had been in the water too? What if whoever had dragged her out of the ocean hadn't been able to grab her brother? She watched the waves move up and down, crashing all along the beach and coming up to lick at her toes before retreating. There were no other bodies floating in the water.

Maybe he had already woken up, maybe he had never even been in the water. Rosie turned to the half of a plane that was sitting in the sand further down the beach.

People were running around, some screaming for people they were looking for and others dragging bodies and bags away from the plane. A man was bouncing between bodies on the ground, turning some over and checking for pulses at their necks before leaving them on the sand. He came closer to Rosie, saying something that she couldn't hear over the noise.

"Are you okay?" he repeated, running closer and glancing at the other bodies around Rosie – all soaking wet like her but none awake. "Are they?"

Rosie turned to the man in the suit behind her, the gash and broken teeth making her stomach turn. She hadn't even noticed the other bodies. A woman in a short skirt lay just behind the man, something long sticking out of her leg and her neck bent at a weird angle.

Still, the man checked each and every person, coming to stand beside Rosie again when he had determined that none of them would wake again.

"Do you know where we are?" Rosie asked, watching the man carefully. He was at least a head taller than her, broad shoulders and sharp blue eyes.

"I don't know, somewhere in the Pacific," he said, eyes scanning further down the beach.

"Specific," Rosie mumbled, but the man had already moved away from her and running to another body that was laying motionless in the sand. Should she be checking bodies too? What would she even do if she found one who was not dead?

Her attention wandered back to the plane. The smoke was becoming less heavy but the smell was terrible. Rosie walked closer to the plane where a group of people were gathered, carefully moving around the sharp pieces of metal.

Someone was sobbing hysterically, a woman with blonde hair and tan legs splattered with blood. Before Rosie could think to ask her if she was okay the man who had been checking the bodies ran up to her and gathered her into his arms, the two talking frantically between sobs.

"I need some help over here! Hey, buddy!"

At the voice Rosie's head jerked to the side, scanning the sand for where she had heard that familiar sound.

"Can someone help me!?" Rosie ran around the side of the plane, her legs sore under her but her heart pounding hard in her chest. Her brother wasn't in the water or laying dead on the beach. He was yelling for help!

"Rosie!" She choked back a cry when she couldn't see him, turning to look behind her and spinning...still unable to see him. What if she was just going crazy? What if this was some hysterical illusion and her brother really was floating in the water somewhere?

But then she saw him sitting in the sand near the trees, waving his hands in the air and motioning her over when she saw him. She ran to the trees, jumping over a piece of metal and sliding to a stop at his feet, falling to her knees and throwing her arms over his shoulders.

"You're okay! Oh my god, you're okay!" she cried, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as he hugged her back.

"You're soaked," he said when Rosie pulled back and sat on the sand in front of him, tears of relief sliding down her cheeks. She looked down at her clothes, a pair of slacks and her button up which were indeed soaking wet. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine," Rosie said quickly, touching the gash on her arm tenderly. It stung and was still covered in sand, but it seemed like the bleeding had stopped for the most part. "You're okay?" she asked, her chest still tight and her lungs still hurting. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"I think so," he said slowly, looking to the girl beside him. Rosie finally looked to the people beside him, most of whom had all been quiet while Rosie had been crying. A woman smiled weakly at her, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her very large, very pregnant stomach. "Jack asked me to look after her," Hugo said, motioning with his elbow to the woman.

"Who's Jack?"

"He's a doctor."

"There's a doctor? So are there ambulances?" Rosie's heart started pounding again and she looked around the beach, almost expecting to see people in uniforms coming down the beach...but there were only hysterical people in varying degrees of distress.

"I think he was on the plane."

"So, no one has come yet? How could they not see a plane crashing?"

"I think we're on a small island," the pregnant woman said, her Australian accent strong. "I was awake during the crash, I think I saw where we crashed."

"An island," Rosie echoed, moving from her knees to sit on her butt in front of her brother.

"Yeah," Hugo said slowly, dark eyes watching the people on the beach. "Dude, this sucks."

* * *

 _Author's Note: Hey guys, just wanted to say welcome and thanks for reading! If you have any feedback, let me know! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Just Our Luck**

Chapter Two

To say things had calmed down would almost sound like a good thing, but for Rosie that feeling of dread in her stomach spread as the screaming and frantic noise of survivors scrambling around the beach faded. People realized their loved ones were either safe, dead, or nowhere to be found. In any case, hours later everyone found themselves coming together down the beach.

As the sounds slowly quieted down, the sun started to set and Hugo had taken it upon himself to make his way through the wreckage and find some form of food. Rosie hadn't brought herself to join him, and stayed by the small fire beside the pregnant woman.

"Shouldn't someone be here by now?" Claire asked, still holding her arms protectively over her stomach even though the doctor had come back and determined that she was, in fact, not going into labor. They had moved over to one of the small fires started along the beach away from the shadowy forest, at first just to gather up with other survivors and then because the sun going down also meant that it was getting colder and darker.

"Maybe it's taking them a while to find us."

"Maybe they can't find us."

"What if we're stuck here?"

The 'maybes' and 'what ifs' continued until everyone grew quiet at the idea that they would be here longer.

Rosie sat with her legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her knees. She rested her chin on her forearms and watched the fire as the people around her continued to chat about where they could possibly be and whether or not they could find a way to get back.

"Chicken or Pork?" Hugo asked, his knees hitting the sand beside Rosie with a thud. He held a stack of small black tins and looked around the fire.

"Chicken," Claire said, taking one of the tins and thanking him.

Without asking, Hugo handed Rosie a tin and got back up, shuffling around the fire to hand out a few more airplane meals to the others.

"I want to go find Vincent, it's not even that dark," the kid across the fire spoke up after starting in on his own meal and his dad let out a long suffering sigh. They had been bickering and arguing about a dog that had been on the plane with them since they joined Claire and Rosie at the fire and the man, Michael, looked like his patience was wearing thin.

"It's getting dark," he said and by the look on his face it was not the first time he had brought that up. "I'm not letting you wander around at night. We don't even know where we are or what's out there."

Walt rolled his eyes and looked to Claire and Rosie and when he saw that he would not be getting support from the two women devouring their food he sighed and turned to sit with his back to Michael. Rosie felt a pang of pity for Michael. Crashing onto an island was hard enough, having to do it with a kid who was clearly not content to take orders must be quite a bit harder. Rosie still felt like she had to keep her eyes on Hugo at all times, thinking if he disappeared again she wouldn't be able to find him. Occasionally she would turn her head and find him wandering around the beach, passing out airplane meals or packets of peanuts and pretzels.

"So, what do you two do? Or did," Claire said slowly, correcting herself and stuttering over it before quieting down and setting her empty tin by the fire.

Rosie smiled and thought about it for a moment. Her own answer was simple, she had been doing the same job for quite some time but to answer for her brother...she wasn't entirely sure about that.

"I just did some factory work, mostly packaging fish."

"I work-worked at a fish and fry!" Claire said happily, grinning at the coincident of both of them working around fish. "What about your brother?"

"He worked at Cluckies," Rosie said after a moment of hesitation. "I don't know what you guys have in Australia that's similar, but they just do fast food chicken for the most part." She decided to leave out the interesting bits about her brother, unsure whether or not he wanted random people on the beach to know he had won the lottery, became a multimillionaire and quit his job since then.

"And you?" Claire asked, turning her attention to Michael who had been staring at Walt's back.

"Oh, contractor," he said, shaking his head for a moment as he brought his attention back to the group around the fire.

"What grade is Walt in?" Claire asked, happily being the sole source of conversation around a fire of otherwise quiet people deep in thought.

"Forth-"

"Fifth," Walt cut his father off. "I was supposed to be starting fifth grade next month."

"Right, fifth. Sorry."

There was an awkward silence where Rosie and Claire looked between the two.

"Alrighty, I think everyone got something to eat," Hugo said, his feet sinking deep into the sand with each step as he moved around the fire to sit between Claire and Rosie. "Okay dinner?"

"Yeah, thanks for getting that," Rosie said and Hugo shrugged.

"People gotta eat."

"Well thanks anyway," Claire said, her hand coming to rest on her stomach after she adjusted her top.

"So, you're still doing good? No...baby stuff and all that?" Hugo asked awkwardly, motioning with his hand to her stomach.

"Oh, no. Nothing since the crash."

"What do you think they're doing over there?" Hugo asked, shifting in the sand to get a better look at a larger group of people around a fire closer to the water.

Rosie turned her head to see what he was looking at and even Walt turned back towards his dad to look too. A few of them started walking back to the treeline and others were throwing large sticks into the fire, building it up even more.

"It's getting dark, probably lighting up the beach in case someone comes," Rosie said. She wasn't able to fill her words with the kind of hope that they appeared to have, and turned back to rest her chin on her arms again.

"I hope the tide doesn't come in much more," Michael said more to himself than the group. "They can probably keep a fire like that going for days but not if it's too close to the water."

"Did you hear that?" Hugo asked, his head jerking to the side to look over his shoulder at the trees. Rosie jumped at his sudden movement and Michael stood up, motioning for Walt to stay seated when the kid started to follow him.

"I didn't hear anything-" Claire started.

"There it was again," Hugo said, kicking sand up as he climbed to his feet quickly.

"Maybe it's Vincent!" Walt yelled, scrambling to his feet and stopped only when Michael grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

The hair on the back of Rosie's neck stood up when she finally heard what Hugo was talking about. A long, low groan sounded from the forest, but she couldn't tell if it was close or further into the forest. It stopped for just a moment before starting again...and Rosie couldn't place what sort of animal or person could make a weird sound like that.

"Maybe it's some sort of car, someone coming to check out the crash?" Claire asked but no one answered her.

The entire beach had gone completely silent, the only sounds being the waves crashing against the sand and the fires crackling and popping. Everyone either stood or sat in the sand, heads turned and necks craned to look to the wall of trees housing the dark shadows and the bizarre sounds.

For a minute, the groans continued before falling silent. Then, a loud screech started so suddenly Rosie was sure she felt a wave of air rush past her from the trees. There was another screech, and another sounding like nothing she had ever heard before. Metal scraping against metal? Or another crash? There was no animal that could make a sound like that.

It continued for a few more seconds before falling quiet.

"What the hell was that?" Hugo asked, mouth open and dark eyes wide as he turned back to Rosie.

"I have no idea," she answered slowly, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement but there was only the shifting branches from the breeze.

"Maybe it was Vincent!" Walt said again, starting for the trees again before being pulled back to the fire by his dad.

"That was not your dog," Michael said sternly, holding the boy by his shoulders until he calmed down. "We'll go look for him tomorrow but you are not going out there tonight."

"Do you think that could be like, a tiger or something? They have tigers in the jungle right?" Hugo asked quietly, keeping his voice low enough so that only Rosie could hear after everyone on the beach had settled down after the noises had stopped.

"That wasn't a tiger," Rosie whispered, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. A few pieces of curly hair had fallen out of her pony tail and she tucked them behind her ear.

"But like, can't big cats make weird sounds?"

"Not like that," Rosie said quietly, feeling the weight of everything that had happened today pressing down on her. Her eyes were starting to get tired and while she thought there was no way she could possibly sleep until they got rescued, it had been quite some time since she had a good rest.

"Maybe-"

"Hugo," Rosie said a little louder, realizing the annoyance and exhaustion had come out a little harsher than she intended. Her brother gave a little huff and turned to talk to Claire in the similar whispered tone about what could possibly be in the jungle.

Rosie turned her head away from the two and watched the dark water rush up the beach and retreat, the white foam lingering on the wet sand. She hugged her legs closer to her body and sighed, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths, willing herself to fall asleep.

Maybe when she woke up, someone will have found them.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, I couldn't quite get this chapter right and wanted to take some time to make some adjustments before putting it out here. Thanks for your patience, and thanks for the kind words! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Just Our Luck**

Chapter Three

"What? We _just_ got here," Rosie said, staring her brother down incredulously in the hotel lobby. She stood with her hip cocked to the side, her backpack in one hand and a map folded up in the other. She had been planning out a fun day around the Australian city when Hugo had found her in the lobby and demanded they get their things, get on a plane, and go back to Florida.

"I'll help you pack," Hugo said, grabbing the backpack from her hands before Rosie could stop him.

"We _just_ got here," Rosie said again, louder this time.

"Well, yeah, I know that," Hugo said, not meeting his sisters gaze as she crossed her arms.

"So..." Rosie started, eyebrows raising when Hugo continued to look around the lobby as if the fake plants in the corner were somehow very interesting now. "Hugo!"

"What?"

"What the hell!? We just got here and you want to go home already? This is our vacation!"

"Well yeah," Hugo said, attempting to push past her to the elevators but even being quite a bit smaller than him, she stood her ground and didn't let him brush past her, reaching out and smacking his arm with the map.

" _Well yeah?_ That's all? We go on vacation and you want to cut it short after _one day_ and the only explanation I get is _well, yeah_?" At this point Rosie was almost screaming and someone from behind the counter by the front doors was starting to come over.

"Rosie! Do you need to yell?" Hugo asked in a hushed whisper, dropping her backpack and finally meeting her gaze, silently begging her to be quiet.

"Yes! I do! You're being a jerk!"

"Shhhh," Hugo said, holding his hands up in surrender and looking over his shoulder at the stern woman making a beeline for them.

"No!" Rosie yelled, smacking his arm again with the map.

"Is everything okay over here?" the woman asked in a deep accent, towering over Rosie and looking down at them expectantly over her tiny glasses.

"Yeah, everything's fine-" Hugo said but was cut off.

"No! What the hell is going on? You were so excited to come here and get away from everything going on right now and suddenly you want to go back!?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm going to have to ask that you both keep your voices down-"

"Back off!" Rosie snapped.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to call security-"

"Call whoever you want, _apparently_ our awesome kickass vacation has been turned into _one day_! And that was mostly in the airport!" The woman raised her thin eyebrows and retreated back to behind the counter, picking up the phone.

"Don't call whoever you want!" Hugo yelled after her desperately, yelping when Rosie smacked the back of his head with the map. "What?"

"I can't believe you!" Rosie yelled, raising the map to smack him again but he blocked her.

"Would you stop hitting me!?"

"No!" Rosie yelled, smacking his stomach with the map.

"We need to go back home!" Hugo yelled, grabbing Rosie's wrist when she raised her hand to hit him again.

"Why?"

"I can't...I can't explain it right now." Hugo let out a long breath when Rosie raised her eyebrows at him.

"You _won't_ explain it right now," Rosie corrected.

"It's just a feeling. We need to go home," Hugo said, his eyes begging Rosie to listen to him.

Rosie was quiet for a moment and thought about smacking him with the paper again, but she took a closer look at her brother. He genuinely looked afraid...but if he was scared of someone Hugo wouldn't be shy about telling his sister.

"Is mom okay?" Rosie asked, going through a list of things that could make her brother so frantic.

"What? Yeah, mom's fine-"

"Johnny?"

"Rosie, stop."

"Then what? What is this feeling that means we can't go on our first _real_ vacation?"

"I can't-"

"You won't explain," Rosie said, folding her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes.

"I just can't right now, Rosie," Hugo said quietly. "I'm sorry. Please listen to me."

Rosie didn't respond and clenched the map tightly in her hand. She had spent all night circling areas that they could go to, things in the area that they could see and restaurants that they could try. All for her brother to turn around and take her right back home.

"We can go on another vacation, Europe or Africa or something," Hugo said quickly. "But not Australia. Not right now."

Rosie studied her brother for another moment.

"You promise?" Hugo let out a loud breath of relief at Rosie's calmer tone, even if it was said through clenched teeth.

"Promise. Europe for Christmas."

Rosie nodded, not entirely happy that the vacation promised to her was so suddenly canceled but at least she would be getting some sort of vacation away from home.

"We need to go now," Hugo said, the relief gone from his face as soon as it had come and he brushed past Rosie to the elevators, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. "Get your stuff, the plane leaves in three hours!"

Rosie bit her cheek, glancing down at the map in her hand. She had been looking forward to this vacation for so long, finally having some time away from her mother screaming at her about finding a husband or news crews chasing her and her brother around town.

With a long sigh, Rosie moved her hair behind her ear and followed Hugo over to the elevators.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just Our Luck**

Chapter Four

"You still owe me a trip to Europe by Christmas," Rosie said, digging her toes into the wet sand and reveling in the refreshing cold water that surrounded her feet.

"What?" Hugo asked, almost laughing at the bizarre sudden statement from his sister who had been quiet for most of the morning.

"You heard me. You can't get out of Christmas in Europe just because of a little plane crash. You promised me."

"A little plane crash? Little?" Hugo let out a bark of a laugh and threw his arm to the scene on the beach behind them. "How is this a little plane crash?"

"Doesn't matter, you still owe me Christmas in Europe."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Hugo said, rolling his eyes as he turned away from Rosie and stepped further into the water.

They had found their luggage surprisingly, but while Rosie's bag had still been sealed shut when they found it in the jungle, Hugo was not so lucky. His clothes and belongings had been strewn along the trees, and the two spent a good portion of their morning just finding all of his things...most of which were now filthy.

Hugo dunked one of his button up shirts into the water and swished it around, pulling it back out and picking at some spots of dirt before dunking it back in. Despite his claims of being very unlucky as he angrily jumped to grab some of the clothes hanging off of branches, he did seem to be luckier than some other passengers who were still looking through the wreck for their own bags.

"I want to go to England," Rosie said thoughtfully, taking her hair down, sliding the hair tie around her wrist and running her fingers through the thick curls.

"I'll see if that rock over there can book a flight," Hugo said, motioning to beyond the crash where a string of rocks littered the beach. "Or maybe there's a monkey somewhere in the jungle that can call Delta."

"And Paris," Rosie added whimsically, leaning back onto her elbows and digging her heels into the cold wet sand.

"Hand me my other shirt?" Hugo asked, throwing his soaking wet one over the waves to land on Rosie's lap with a slap.

"Ew! You could have handed it to me," Rosie said, not able to muster up the same kind of bickering energy she used to when they were little. She tossed it into his empty suitcase and grabbed another one, getting to her feet and walking it out to where he was standing in the water.

"I also want to go to Paris," Rosie said again, brushing the sand off of her hands and dipping them into the cool water.

"Paris sounds boring," Hugo said, wrinkling his nose and dunking the new shirt in the water.

"You promised," Rosie sang, rocking back onto her heels and letting the waves wash up to her elbows.

Hugo let out a long-suffering sigh and wrung out the shirt. "Fine, we can do Paris if we also can go to Amsterdam."

At that, Rosie wrinkled her nose. "We'll talk."

"Next," Hugo said, holding the wet shirt out to Rosie.

She took it and moved through the water back to shore. "Of course, your majesty," she said sarcastically, dropping it into the suitcase and grabbing a handful of other shirts and shorts and socks. She stepped carefully through the water until she was standing next to her brother again.

Piece by piece they cleaned the clothes and ended with a pile of soaking wet (but somewhat cleaner) clothes scattered across branches of trees lining the forest to dry. Rosie jumped up as high as she could, her fingers just barely able to spread the large shirt out over a slightly higher branch.

"Need some help, short-stack?" Hugo asked, chuckling when Rosie jumped again and wasn't able to spread the shirt out more.

"Shut up," Rosie said through clenched teeth, taking a deep breath and jumping up again. "I can do it myself."

Hugo shrugged and crossed his arms, watching her jump again and again before finally getting the shirt spread out over the long branch. "How long should I leave these up here?"

"Until they're dry," Rosie said, grinning when Hugo rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I was thinking more like how long does it take to dry?"

"However long it takes until they're dry. What," Rosie said flatly when Hugo sighed again. "Do you think home-ec taught me how to hang dry clothes?"

Before Hugo could bite back with whatever comment he was about to throw at her, a large drop of water hit Rosie square on the nose making her jump. A few more hit her forehead and arms before the two looked up. Without either of them realizing it, the light fluffy clouds that had been slowly rolling in had turned a dark gray and within a minute the occasional thick drops turned into a full-on downpour.

Hugo took off down the beach, and Rosie took a glance back at the clothes that they had just hung up to dry before she jogged after him. The dry warm sand under her bare feet was cold and wet by the time she caught up to him near the wreck, where several other people were gathered under the wing.

She greeted Claire who looked about as soaking wet as Rosie and Hugo.

"I've never seen rain like this, it came on so quickly," Rosie commented, throwing her curly hair back up into a messy bun.

"It was so sunny earlier," Claire agreed turning to look over her shoulder into the treeline, cast into shadows again now that the sun was gone. "I hope they're okay out there."

"At least it's still warm," Hugo added, forever the optimist before stopping with his hands still twisting his hair. "Wait, people are out in the jungle right now?"

"Oh yeah, Jack and Charlie took a woman out into the jungle earlier today," Claire said flippantly.

"What?" Hugo asked, suddenly looking panicked between the two women. "What? What if, you know, baby-stuff happens?"

"Well, he said they wouldn't be long. They wanted to find another part of the plane, something about maybe finding a radio," Claire said, brushing off Hugo's frantic sputtering. "It'll be fine. _I'll_ be fine," she added.

"Jack thinks there's a radio in the jungle?" Rosie asked, pulling the pregnant woman's attention away from Hugo's panicked stutters of 'baby' and 'labor' and 'doctor'.

"I guess so," Claire said, shrugging as more people came running in from the rain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Just Our Luck**

Chapter Five

"You cannot possibly want that right now," Rosie said, watching Hugo rub his stomach and close his eyes. The two had found a shady spot in the sand just on the edge of the tree line to rest after spending all morning going through luggage and sorting things into piles.

"I do," he said with a grin, his stomach grumbling loudly.

"How are you not sick of their food?"

"Are you kidding? It's delicious!"

"What's delicious?" Claire asked, stumbling out of the trees.

"It's greasy and gross," Rosie said, wrinkling her nose while Hugo licked his lips.

"It's delicious! Crispy, warm, juicy..."

"You have an addiction," Rosie said, shaking her head and remembering how much their mother would yell at him every time he brought home a bucket of fried chicken from work.

"Hey dude, have you ever had Cluckies?" Hugo asked, turning to Claire.

"What's a Cluckies?" she asked, looking between the two siblings as she slowly lowered herself down to rest her back against a tree.

"It's disgusting-"

"It's only the world's best fried chicken fast food restaurant in the entire world!" Hugo interrupted.

"Quite the claim," Claire said. "But have you ever had Chicken Treat?"

"Is that an Aussie thing?"

"Only the world's best fried chicken restaurant in the entire world!" Hugo let out a bark of a laugh and shook his head.

"Impossible, man! Cannot compare to the Cluckies Classic 6-piece order with honey mustard sauce!"

Rosie wrinkled her nose again.

"I could really go for some fried chicken right now," Claire said, her hand cradling her large stomach and the two chicken-lovers stared off into the water with glazed-over eyes, day dreaming about their favorite meals.

Rosie rolled her eyes and looked down the beach.

A few people were still sorting through the wreckage for anything useful, but it looked like most of the survivors (minus the ones who had gone into the jungle earlier) had taken a break. A woman lay sunbathing in the sand and Rosie wondered how she could seem so relaxed in their situation.

"What about you?" Claire asked, bringing Rosie's attention back to her brother and his new friend. "What food will you get when we get out of here?"

"Oh." Rosie hummed, thinking about what food she was craving at the moment. Frankly anything other than packets of peanuts and those tiny tins of airline meals sounded amazing. "I guess my mom's mushroom enchiladas. And that homemade salsa she makes with tomatillos and poblanos."

"Mushrooms?" Claire asked, her face looking like she had just eaten something sour. "Bleh."

"No man, these things are awesome," Hugo said, shaking his head at the Australian woman. "She cooks them in this sauce for a while so they get nice a soft."

"No thank you," Claire muttered, her mind unchanged.

"Or maybe Thai food," Rosie said, leaning back on her elbows and letting them sink into the cool sand. "There's this place a few miles away from our house, Rashawade. It's this old classic diner that they turned into a Thai restaurant and their food is soooo good! Super spicy-"

"You have to order half the spice you normally would," Hugo added.

"Never been a fan of spicy food," Claire said, looking as if she had a bad taste in his mouth. "I don't get the whole burning your mouth for fun thing."

Rosie rolled her eyes, Hugo shrugged, and the three sat in silence enjoying the breeze.

"I might go for a short walk," Rosie said, turning to look back into the trees. They had been able to find Hugo's bag in the forest earlier, and she bet that other bags would be scattered around there too.

"Yeah, I guess I should probably get back to work," Hugo said with a defeated sigh, reluctantly getting to his feet and motioning to Claire. "You wanna come? We're just going through the plane and seeing if there's anything we can use."

"I might walk with Rosie, if that's okay with you," Claire added to Rosie. "Stretch my legs a bit."

Rosie nodded, standing and brushing the sand off her elbows and butt. "Might come across some more stuff from the plane." She took off her button-up shirt and shook off the sand, tying it around her waist and adjusting the straps of her tank top and bra on her shoulders.

"Thanks," Claire said, smiling at Hugo as he made his way back down to the large chunk of plane still sticking out of the sand. "Have you guys found luggage in there already?"

"Yeah, we went in this morning and found some of his stuff. I figure there might be more out there somewhere."

"Jack and Charlie should be back sometime soon, maybe they'll have found something useful further in too."

"Yeah, I heard people talking about the cockpit possibly having a black box or something," Rosie said, starting through the forest at a slow pace. "But even if they do find it, wouldn't a rescue party have been able to find the island already?"

"I'm not sure how that works, maybe it's something they need to turn on. Or send a message with," Claire said, stepping carefully over a fallen log and pushing past some branches. "Here's something," she said suddenly, crouching low and retrieving a small shoe from under a bush.

Rosie took it and looked it over; a child's size...but there had only been Walt amongst the group of survivors and somehow she didn't think sparkly pink was his style.

"Were there other kids on the plane?" Rosie asked, "I don't remember seeing any in our row."

"Mine either, but I wasn't really paying attention to the other passengers," Claire said, taking the shoe back and deciding to hold onto it as they made their way deeper into the woods.

The air was cooler in the shadows of the trees, but light filtered in through gaps in the treetops and speckled the forest floor. Unlike on the beach there was no breeze or wind pushing her hair around, and the still air and silence felt eerie in comparison to the noisy beach.

The girls continued their search for lost luggage, occasionally finding an article of clothing or a piece of metal, but unfortunately nothing useful. They gathered up all that they had found – not exactly the biggest of hauls – and brought it back to the beach.

Walking onto the sand, the breeze blew a few strands of loose hair around Rosie's neck and cooled her face, but the hair on the back of her neck stood on ends when she heard what was undoubtedly a fight. People were gathered around the wreck and yelling, and at the sound of Hugo screaming something along the lines of "let him go" Rosie dropped her things and took off towards the wreck. A large crowd had gathered up, and Rosie found Hugo just off to the side fairly easily.

"What's going on?" Rosie asked, slightly out of breath and peaking over someone's shoulder. Her view was mostly blocked but she jumped at the sound of a loud thud and grunt.

"Some asshole redneck is beating this guy up." Rosie jumped at a loud yell and several thuds, what had to have been someone punching or someone hitting the ground. The people in front of them shifted, most seemed uneasy by the situation and a few were yelling for them to stop and to break up the fight.

" _STOP IT_!" A woman screamed, her voice carrying over and silencing the group of watchers. The sounds from the fight slowed before finally coming to a stop.

A man who had been blocking Rosie's view stepped to the side and she saw two large men, both of whom she had seen several times, being held back and looking like they were ready to jump on each other again.

"We found the transceiver but it's not working," a woman said, and immediately the group of survivors starting buzzing with mumbles and whispers. "Can anyone help fix it?"

"She used to work at Radioshack," Hugo said, finger pointed at Rosie who immediately felt her face growing red when heads turned to her.

"What? No." Rosie quickly started to shake her head.

"Yeah, you worked there for four years!" Hugo said.

"Selling stuff, not fixing it," Rosie said in a rush. She had spent quite a bit of time ringing customers up, but all of the broken things that were returned got sent back to their headquarters to be repaired.

"I might be able to," the dark man with shaggy black hair said. He stepped forward with his hand out, taking the radio from the woman and flipping it over to look at it closely.

The irate redneck threw his hands up the air. "Great, perfect! Let's trust this guy!"

"Hey," Hugo said indignantly, "we're all in this together, man. Let's treat each other with a little respect."

"Shut up, lard-o," he spat back and Rosie jumped forward.

"Fuck you, asswhipe." Hugo grabbed her wrist and yanked Rosie back before she could take another step. Rosie spun back to face her brother."Let me go."

"And fuck you, senorita!" the southern man snarled at Rosie, towering over her.

"Stop it!" the woman yelled again, holding what looked like a large walkie-talkie up in the air. The man turned sharply and pushed his way past the group that had gathered around them."Stop fighting! We need to get this thing fixed so we can send a signal. Can you help?"

The woman had turned to Rosie, who felt her face growing red.

"I didn't really fix anything when I worked there," Rosie said.

"You said you helped some people get their stuff set up," Hugo interrupted.

"Getting _phones_ set up," Rosie corrected.

"Can you at least look? It can't hurt to have an extra pair of eyes working on it," the woman asked, green eyes looking hopefully down at Rosie who let out a slow breath.

"I can look," Rosie said, feeling awkward with the eyes on her. She doubted her years of pushing buttons on a register would help her fix something she had never seen before, but the woman seemed to like that answer and thanked her. "Thanks for that," she added through clenched teeth to Hugo when the survivors had all went their separate ways.

"What?" Hugo asked defensively. "You might be able to help fix it."

"I don't even know what it is," Rosie said with a long sigh, feeling the start of a headache throb through the side of her head.

"Like Kate said, can't hurt to look," Hugo said lightly, "come on, I think he went over here with it."

Rosie looked over to the people who were sorting items along the beach, spotting Claire back by the pile of clothes with Charlie holding a bra up to his chest and jiggling his shoulders. He got a loud laugh from the pregnant woman before Rosie turned and followed Hugo around to the other side of the wreck.


End file.
